Ragged and tattered, and held together by a webwork of spells and focus.
There's not much that goes unnoticed in this land in general, and far less now. Raven's entrance is noticed, most certainly. Oh, there are some who miss it entirely, but when every Old One's head lifts sharply at the same moment, in a country containing the entire Circle... well.
Luckily, there are two Old Ones here who have felt that magic before, and the regent as well. So that moment of startlement and the brief, intently listening look that follows are all the reaction the Circle shows.
And it's sometime later that Will happens to be in a certain field, wandering among apple trees with his hands in his pockets. (Here, alone among trees, his trousers have decided to be the blue jeans they started out as.)
Will studies an apple tree for a moment: the gnarled trunk, the twisting branches and ripe round fruit against the sky.
In the back of his mind is always an awareness of the structure of this world and the webwork of spells holding it to itself, and now the static of Raven's presence fuzzing along the lines of power.
There's not much that goes unnoticed in this land in general, and far less now. Raven's entrance is noticed, most certainly. Oh, there are some who miss it entirely, but when every Old One's head lifts sharply at the same moment, in a country containing the entire Circle... well.
Luckily, there are two Old Ones here who have felt that magic before, and the regent as well. So that moment of startlement and the brief, intently listening look that follows are all the reaction the Circle shows.
And it's sometime later that Will happens to be in a certain field, wandering among apple trees with his hands in his pockets. (Here, alone among trees, his trousers have decided to be the blue jeans they started out as.)
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This someone also has his hands in his pockets, though they are coat pockets instead of pants pockets.
Raven is surly like that.
Right.
"Hello, Will."
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Will glances at him without surprise. (Which is not the same thing as without curiosity, or interest.)
"Hullo, Raven."
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"It is not so bad a place, this. Though it makes my head itch."
It's the static nature of being outside Time, really. It makes Raven twitchy.
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Will doesn't say that.
"No," he agrees instead, with a sidelong glance of some amusement.
Not so bad is rather an understatement, Will thinks, even in the current situation.
"Though you sound as if you hadn't entirely expected it to be."
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"I am, perhaps, not so fond of cages, so."
He wrinkles his nose, studying the sky.
"Also I am very bad at static."
Some things, it must be said, bear repeating.
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The sky is summer-blue, scattered with loose clouds.
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"That, I am thinking, is the very worst kind."
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"Sometimes," he agrees.
"And sometimes it isn't a cage at all."
"This place would be for you, I think. To stay. But not for the rest of us."
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Raven's smile is small and more than slightly amused.
"I am a thing that changes. This place is not. So."
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Will studies an apple tree for a moment: the gnarled trunk, the twisting branches and ripe round fruit against the sky.
In the back of his mind is always an awareness of the structure of this world and the webwork of spells holding it to itself, and now the static of Raven's presence fuzzing along the lines of power.
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"You see it, I think. Even now."
Beat.
"Or possibly feel is better, yes?"
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"Of course," he says after a moment.
"I could hardly not."
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"Not here, at the least. But it is why I do not think I will stay so very long."
Nor will he come back so very often.
It is not wise, and Raven is not always a fool.
Usually, but not always.
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"Why did you come?"
It's a simple question, not a challenge.
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"For visiting kin, yes?"
Beat.
"It is a thing people often do, I think."
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